Yes, My Alias is a Cereal
by lightning027
Summary: Yes, my alias is a cereal. Deal with it.  Trix's brother was killed by Kira, and now she wants revenge.  With her team of criminal specialists, they plan to do the impossible, commit crimes without being caught and killed.  Set during Mello/Near arc.


**(A/N – **Yes, another Death Note story. Yes, I'm obsessed. This time it's in the Near/Mello arc, which I'm not a personal fan of, but I felt an urge to write a FanFic on it. The pairings in this story are not final. I'm pretty sure Mello will end up with someone (not Matt, you perverted fools), but I'm not sure about Near and Matt. Actually I know exactly who will end up with who, and who has no one, but I just don't want to tell you.

Also, this is the largest amount of OCs I have ever had in a single FanFic. There are five – Trix, Wiz, Minx, Spaz, and Jones. And yes, Jones is the oddball because his alias doesn't end in Z or X *smile*. I only own my OCs. Death Note belongs to Ohba and Obata. If it did belong to me, Mello and Matt would have definitely hooked up.

This is slightly less progressed than 500 Souls, I only finished this chapter today, so I have no clue when I will update next. The writing in this is also a bit (just a bit) more mature than that in 500 Souls. I'm going to rate it T, but if you think it's too much swearing, please review and tell me that. I'll change it.

Happy reading!)

Chapter 1 – Wild Ride

"Oh my god, when are you guys gonna be ready! I've been waiting for more than ten minutes!" I yelled up the stairs of the townhouse. I was already dressed and had my dyed hair pulled into a ponytail. I tapped my booted foot impatiently as I waited for the rest of my team to run down the stairs of my brother's house.

My brother was dead. He had been in a gang, called the Ranks. He hadn't been that bad of a guy, he just ran with the wrong crowd. One day, police found him in his gang jacket the day of a shooting. He was found guilty and sent to jail. It was a big case, both sides arguing fiercely. It was all over the news. Apparently enough for Kira to notice. He murdered my brother.

After that, I had started doing everything I could to send a big middle finger to Kira. I hate him. I hate him with all my being.

"One minute, Trix! Minx is still picking out her outfit," Spaz stuck his head around the corner and rolled his eyes. He was an African American boy about my age, seventeen. Minx was eighteen, and a total drama queen and girly girl. I know what you're asking. Why is the bitch in your house?

Well, after Kira killed my brother, I had lots of pent up anger, and a house I couldn't pay for myself. So, I put together a group of Kira-hating kids, which were kind of hard to find. Most people agree with Kira about punishing criminals now. It was different five years ago, when L was more active in the case. I used to look up to L, but now I think he's just given up or given in.

I decided the best way to get back at Kira was to annoy him, and give him a criminal he couldn't catch. So that made my requirements for roomies even more specific. But I was able to come up with a team to help me reach my goal.

Spaz – his alias of course. I tell all of my team members to use one. Mine is Trix, because of the tricks we play on Kira. Spaz is, well, a spaz. He is our certified escape artist and driver. He usually drives our getaway car and sometimes picks locks. Without him, we'd be stuck at the crimes.

Yes, we rob people. Usually Seven Elevens and other tiny shops in big chains. Wiz is the one that picks out our robbery sites. She's the youngest in our group, at age fifteen. She is also our computer expert and keeps track of Kira's movements. All the boring stuff. We love her though, even if she is really shy and keeps to herself. She can whip your ass in any video game, though.

Jones is our weapons expert. He's the oldest at nineteen. Once I asked him if he thought he would be a good leader for the group. His eyes got all big and he started stuttering, which is weird for Jones, because he usually doesn't even talk. He knows all about machine guns and machetes, but when it comes to social skills, he falls a little flat.

That's why we have Minx. What I like to call her is our resident whore. Everyone else calls her the scam and seduction specialist, or SASS. She's who we go to if we want to influence a person to do something, or lull them into a false sense of security. I hate her, but she does a damn good job and I respect her for that.

So what am I? I'm the leader, the brains of the operation and the founder. And it's my house, technically, so that adds to it. If I had a specialty I would say maybe street fighting or being impulsive. I'm really good at split second decisions. But that's basically it.

Wiz and Jones ran down the stairs, both carrying handguns and large bags. Jones had a ski mask on his head, not yet covering his face. He towered over me by at least half a foot. Wiz followed behind him, a happy face theater mask resting on her head. She was shorter than me by about a half a foot.

I always thought Wiz looked weird with her gun. I just didn't see her as a fighter. I also held a gun and a bag for the money. I was wearing a hoodie where you could pull up the zipper all the way up through the hood, and there were mesh eyeholes.

"GUYS! MINX I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE WEARING JONES' UNDERWEAR! GET DOWN HERE!" I yelled, becoming very impatient. If we didn't move fast, we wouldn't keep to our schedule and everyone would get all messed up.

"God, keep your gun in its holster, Trix," Minx said, gliding down the steps. She was wearing a very revealing outfit in dark purple leather. I rolled my eyes at her. She was lucky that no one suspected her of any of the robberies, exposing herself like that. I made sure never to wear anything that could lead the cops to me. That's the reason I didn't wear my brother's jacket on tricks.

Spaz followed her down the steps; his eyes trained on her body. I rolled my eyes again. I didn't see anything that was incredibly pretty. Sure, she had a perfect figure and probably about size D boobs, but her face wasn't anything spectacular. She had dyed her hair blond, from its natural brown. I had dyed my hair white with a blue streak, but I would never dye it blond. Yech.

Everyone ran outside and into Spaz's car. I sat in the passenger seat, and everyone else sat in the back. The car was an old VW van, so the back was covered in fake rabbit fur and had a lava lamp welded onto one of the wheel wells.

We were robbing three places at once. This was only the second time we had attempted to do something like this. The first time we had tried, only one of the robberies went as planned, and the other two . . . not so well. Wiz and Minx were paired together, and Minx started making out with one guy, so the cops showed up before they were done. Luckily, Jones and I showed up from the only successful trick, and shot one of the cops in the knee. They were able to get in the car before they were caught.

Spaz actually did get caught. The rescuing of him involved ramming a stolen cop car into another cop car, a strip tease, and a confetti cannon. Yeah, that was a wild night.

Luckily, tonight the teams were changed. Jones and Minx were taking out the minimart, Wiz and Spaz were going to hit the WalMart (a real challenge), and I was going to rob the Seven Eleven by myself. Spaz would pick us all up after they finished at WallMart. If we had problems, we would text them and they would pick us up at an abandoned house a few blocks away from all of our locations.

Spaz stopped the car, and I stepped out. We were about a block from my target. I looked both ways, and then slunk down an alley as the van pulled away. The Seven Eleven was just across the road at the end of the alley. I pulled up my hood and zipped it, and pulled my 25 out of the pocket. I was almost at the end of the alley, when someone grabbed my arm.

I was startled, spun around and yanked my arm out of the person's grip. I couldn't tell if my assailant was male or female, so I unzipped my hood. I blinked a few times. My attacker was blond, and had either short hair for a girl, or long air for a boy. In the low light, I couldn't tell their gender.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" dude. Definitely a dude.

"Whatever I want, creep," I said, turning around and trying to walk towards the store. He grabbed me again.

"Idiot! Haven't you heard of Kira! You'll die!" He yelled, trying to pull me back down the alley. Another Kira freak that's scared into submission. I sighed.

"Look, asshole, I don't know why you think you can control what I do, but I do know one thing. I am going to rob this fucking Seven Eleven, and if you try to stop me again, I'll fucking shoot you!" I yelled, waving my 25 for good measure. The man frowned, but released his grip.

"Fine you crazy bitch, but if you die it's your own fault," he rolled his eyes and stalked out of the alley, most likely getting as far away as the sight of the crime as he could, so that he wouldn't be connected in any way to the crime.

I zipped my hood back up, and slowly made my way to the store. I opened the doors and did the usual.

"This is a robbery! Everyone lay down with their hands on their heads!" I shouted in a manlike voice. Of course people could see that I was a woman by my figure, but it still made me seem tougher. I pointed my gun at the cashier, my glare not noticeable through the hood.

"Oh, what? Are you going to shoot me with that puny thing?" the man asked with an accent I couldn't place.

I shot his water bottle, which was very close to him. He jumped and immediately slammed his hand on the cash register to get the money out. I quickly shoved it into my bag as I walked out the door, still staring at the people lying on the ground. Then, quick as lightning, the cashier smashed down on a button behind him, yelling "JUSTICE!"

My eyes widened, knowing that this was an emergency alarm system as the shrieking noise began. And the police station was right around the corner.

"SHIT!" I yelled over the din, running out the door and taking the spray paint from another pocket. I hastily sprayed TRIX on the building, our trademark, and started to run. But I heard sirens coming down the road, and it would be at least two minutes before Spaz and the others would get here, maybe longer. I was screwed.

I scanned the street for a place to hide, and maybe a change of clothes so I could escape without the cops knowing for sure I had done the crime. But all that was wiped from my mind as a black motorcycle swerved to a stop in front of me.

"Get on!" yelled blondie, who now had a helmet on so that most of his hair wasn't visible. But his attitude was very recognizable.

I hopped on, not asking questions nor putting a helmet on. I wrapped one arm around his waist while the other held the money and we zoomed into the night with the cops on our tails.

"What the_ fuck_ were you _thinking_!" he yelled over the roar of the bike. We ran a red light and the cops did too.

"I don't think, I act!" I shouted back. The cops were gaining on us, we weren't gonna make it. As we flew past buildings I realized where we were.

"Take a right!" I yelled. The guy obeyed, swerving the bike into a near impossible turn.

"Alley on your left! Turn!" He followed my orders. "That open door, go in through that!"

"Are you insane!" he shouted, the first sign of retaliation against my orders.

"You're gonna miss it! Just trust me!" I yelled back. He maneuvered the bike through the door and into an abandoned townhouse.

"Down that hall and out the other door! Then take a left!" I instructed. He was able to follow my orders, but we were almost run over. By my own getaway car.

"FUCK!" the man shouted as he crashed the bike into a cardboard box. We were in an alley near my house. I wondered how the hell Spaz got the thing into an alley in the first place.

The van screeched to a stop and everyone hopped out. I was lying on the ground near the box, somewhat dazed and more than a bit bruised. I unzipped my hood so I could get some fresh air.

"TRIX!" Spaz squealed as he ran to me. He practically fell to his knees and started looking me over and poking me.

"Are you OK? Anything broken? How bout the trick? Oh there's the money, what a dumb question-" I put a finger to his lips.

"Spaz, shut the hell up and stop touching me, I've got bruises in every place imaginable, OK?" I said exhaustedly.

"Does that mean you did the nasty with motorcycle boy here?" Minx smirked, poking the man with the toe of her boot. He groaned and sat up, removing his helmet.

"No, you perv. I don't even know his name," I shrugged off her comment. I knew she only said that stuff to annoy me, and because she was slut and it made her feel better about herself.

"You don't know my name!" Spaz chimed in.

"And I haven't had sex with you, so my theory stands," I mumbled, rolling my eyes and trying to get to my feet. My right leg buckled under me, but luckily Jones caught me before I fell.

"Thanks big J," I muttered. He shrugged. He almost never talked around strangers.

"Oh god . . ." the man said, struggling to his feet. Minx helped him up, taking this opportunity to squish her boobs into his arm.

"Poor baby," she cooed. I rolled my eyes.

"Uh . . ." the guy was looking at Minx, or more specifically, at her boobs. Oh, yes, he has_ very_ good self control.

He cleared his throat and tried to look away from Minx's chest, and actually succeeding. "Who the hell are you people?" he asked.

Everyone looked at me, seeing if I would give the man our aliases and explain our mission. They all knew that I could possibly choose him to help with our mission, and he would come to live with us.

I knew, however, that I wouldn't be asking him to join our operation. He was too pro-Kira, and he questioned authority (me) way too much. He probably wouldn't even be able to grasp the concept of "tricks" and how they affected Kira.

"Who the hell are you?" I countered, glaring at him. He glared back.

"Mello. Now who are you?"

I knew Mello must be an alias. Smart kid.

"Trix." His eyes widened. He had obviously heard of the "Trix gang" on the news, and the burglaries/vandalisms that we had committed.

"So you're the one that's been cheating death," he mused.

"We all have been. We cheat Kira in every way we can. I hope it infuriates the hell out of him," I growled.

"Who are you?" he asked, turning to Minx.

"Minx, but you can call me anything you want," she said in a husky voice. Mello tried to stay cool, but it was obvious he was not immune to Minx's charms.

"I'm Spaz!" Spaz nearly shouted, making everyone, including myself, jump.

"Wiz," she whispered, so that we could barely hear. She had been so quiet, I hadn't even known she was standing next to me.

Jones didn't say anything , so I answered for him.

"What, is he dumb or something?" Mello asked, staring at the big guy.

"No, he's just a man of action, not words," I answered.

"Well, it was a real treat to meet your little sideshow and have to save you from the cops, but I have to leave," Mello stated, righting his bike with Minx still clinging to his arm.

"But you could stay and work with our group! You could help us with tricks and live in our amazing headquarters! You could stay in my room," Minx purred suggestively. I stood with my mouth agape. Nobody was allowed to offer a position in our group except for me. I knew the most about this man, and yet Minx was throwing herself at him, ready to sleep with a man for all we knew could be Kira himself.

"No thanks, I've got a place of my own," he answered, shrugging Minx off his arm. He hopped onto his motorcycle and started the engine. Before he put his helmet on, he turned to me.

"I'm not saving you next time, so you better get your act together," he said.

"I can take care of myself, I don't need some dick to save me," I countered.

"Sure," he answered, rolling his eyes.

And with that he put on his helmet and rode away.

"Good riddance," I muttered.


End file.
